


A Demon's Prayers for his Angel

by sloppysnakes



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Fallen Angels, Heaven & Hell, Hurt/Comfort, Wing Grooming, falling angel, i only spent a bit of time on this but i have a lot of thoughts and i needed to share them, im working on a part 2 to this i just need to decide how it ends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 19:16:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20662361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloppysnakes/pseuds/sloppysnakes
Summary: Crowley watched as white wings became stained with ash. This was his fault.





	A Demon's Prayers for his Angel

"Angel..." Crowley spoke under his breath. A shaky breath left him as he reached out to the discolored feathers in front of him. He hesitated, before lightly placing his palm against a patch of dark feathers.

Aziraphale winced. Crowley's mouth let out a "Sorry," but he had hardly even processed Aziraphale's action. Crowley's hand remained softly touching his partner's wings, the familiar soreness of tears beginning to form behind his eyes.

"Crowley... I think..." Aziraphale swallowed his words. He wasn't quite ready to admit this all out loud. It was quite a lot, especially for an angel of his standing, and goodness, how could things have come this far? How could he be actually..? 

Again, Crowley could only manage another word under his breath. This time, a different emotion followed it. "Angel..." He said.

Aziraphale brought his wings away from Crowley, wrapping himself lightly in them. "I-I don't think you can call me that anymore, dear..."

Crowley's glasses had already come off- grooming was serious business. Yet, he still reached up to touch the bridge of his nose, in hopes that they were still there. Crowley had to be seeing this wrong. These dark spots throughout Aziraphale's wings were just a trick of the light, a smudge on his glasses, or even a weird angelic sunburn. Anything but ashes. _Please, God._ He thought. _Please take him back. He's good. He's the only good one. He's never been anything but good._

God had never answered Crowley. Not once in the past 6,000 years had God ever shown any signs that She'd even heard his prayers, let alone that She'd been any paying attention to him at all. But still, he prayed. His left hand came out to softly touch Aziraphale's back. Right between his wings, his back was warm. He was always warm. Just one little thing that Heaven didn't get entirely right about humans. Aziraphale flinched once more in surprise, but never retreated. His skin warmed Crowley's cool hand. Hell couldn't quite get human body temperature down either.

Crowley's thumb softly stroked back and forth, attempting to offer any comfort to the falling angel in front of him. _Falling angel_... Crowley's right hand came up to clutch at his own heart. _God, please. Heaven has only ever been filled with bastards, but this is the best one you lot have ever had. _The patch of dark feathers continued to grow. One by one, centimeter by centimeter. Aziraphale's body trembled as Crowley watched the change.

_He's too good for this. He's too good. This will hurt him. It hurt me, he can't hurt like that. _Crowley never thought that falling could happen like this. It was graceful, in a way. Crowley could sit here and hold him as he fell, as he began to burn, and his wings continued to change color. He wouldn't have to fall into fire. He wouldn't have to hit the ground. He wouldn't have to pick himself off the floor or pick cooled sulfur out of his hair. He wouldn't have to walk into hell. Still. _You can't do this to him._

Aziraphale was a human's angel. Beautiful, kind, giving, pure. In all 6,000 years of humanity, the humans had only ever met one angel. They wrote stories and books about angels, but they were truly only ever about Aziraphale. He was what angels should be. He was the selfless, brave, kind being that the humans have all become so enchanted by. He was the reason so many of them pray. _You owe everything to him._

A tear left Crowley's eye. In front of him, Aziraphale shook, short breaths leaving and entering his body rapidly. Obviously, he was going down in a different fashion, but it still hurt. This was all new to them both, but the road to becoming a demon was surely not a pleasant one. Crowley's hand traveled away from his own chest, up to Aziraphale's hair. Aziraphale was falling and mostly covered by his own wings, but Crowley had to offer _some_ comfort, right? 

_Damn you then._

_"_You're going to be okay, darling." Crowley said, trying to calm his voice. "I'm right here. And I promise I won't go anywhere until you're alright."

He avoided touching Aziraphale's wings, but ushered him into his arms none the less. Crowley cradled his angel, the humans' angel, and for some reason, he continued to pray.

_You're casting out the only angel who has ever been what an angel is supposed to be. If angels are good and demons are evil, Aziraphale is the only true angel you ever have created._

Crowley watched white feathers continue to stain with soot.

_You're a hypocrite._

Aziraphale's body trembled in his arms.

_Take him back. _

Tears began flowing from Crowley's eyes, nearly as freely as from Aziraphale's.

_He shouldn't have to go through this. He is a being of love. The only one. He's the only one who knows what love is. _

Crowley's hands rubbed small circles along Aziraphale's shoulder and combed gently through his hair.

_I know what love is,_

Angelic hands gripped at bed sheets and intertwined with cooler, slim fingers. He was clammy, pale, sweaty.

_Because of him._

His body temperature felt to be around that of Crowley's, which was a solid 8 degrees lower than usual. He'd be back to normal soon. He'd be back to normal hopefully.

_He taught me love. He taught the humans love. He is not a demon._

No amount of praying would do either of them any good. When God had made up Her mind, there was never any taking it back. Aziraphale was falling. Perhaps not as violently as others before him, but just as quickly. Nobody could catch him now.

Angels who tried to save those falling typically got dragged down as well. Only the demons waiting at the bottom could offer any solace, but they never did. Crowley would. Crowley may be a demon, but he knew love. He knew compassion. He'd learned it all from one particular principality, and he intended to show this to him when he hit the ground, however metaphorically it may all happen.

"I don't know what-" Aziraphale's body tensed up. He gripped at Crowley's arm.

Crowley shushed him gently. "You're falling darling..." He said. "I'm so sorry..." His voice cracked.

Crowley was going to be here by his side the entire time. He'd told the truth in his prayers. It was the most truthful he'd ever been. Aziraphale was good. The best. Crowley would lie to god, but there was no reason to now. Aziraphale deserved redemption. He didn't deserve to fall. He deserved to stay angelic. Aziraphale didn't deserve to have his name, his mind, his body, or his wings to be tarnished with anything demonic.

Crowley looked down at his hands. He'd tainted Aziraphale. He was to blame for this. Aziraphale's name, Aziraphale's mind, Aziraphale's body, had all been touched by him. Corrupted. Aziraphale didn't deserve this. In Eden, he should have kept his distance. That clever saying the humans made up, "curiosity killed the cat," held some bit of truth even if that wasn't the entire saying. In this case, curiosity made the angel fall.

The purest of angels stood before him. He couldn't keep his curiosity at bay. Crowley approached, initiated something, and dragged Aziraphale into the pits of Hell with him. It was a 6,000 year process, but finally, Aziraphale had lost his footing and was now falling.

There was nothing to do besides wait on the ground, ready to catch him. Watch Aziraphale plummet down to Hell. Crowley could watch Aziraphale get closer, watch the flames lick at him, and wait. There was no rescuing him.

"This is my fault, Aziraphale." 

_This is my fault. _


End file.
